


a collection of ironstrange fics

by thegladers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Father Figures, M/M, Peter is The Son, Stark Tower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegladers/pseuds/thegladers
Summary: inspiration taken from @irnstrvnge and their wonderful followers unless otherwise stated. hopefully, I didn't completely disappoint everyone.





	1. Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> a fic where stephen arrives at stark tower to find a disaster and his boyfriend in the middle of it.

Stephen stood in the doorway of Stark Tower, watching in complete and utter horror as the disaster played out in front of him. It seemed as though a tornado had been through the living room; clothes and dishes and food were all strewn about and there was the distinct smell of smoke wafting through the room, and there were three unidentified bodies currently passed out on the floor covered with blankets.

 

“I really hope I didn’t just walk into a murder,” Stephen muttered as he pushed through the room, narrowly avoiding a pile of what he believed to be macaroni. He closes his eyes and sighs, opening them when he hears a loud groan coming from one of the heaps in the room. He walks over to it and pulls the blanket down slightly, revealing Tony Stark’s beautiful, yet devastatingly pale, face. Stephen smiles as Tony squints up at him, sitting up and rubbing his head. He glances around the room in confusion then faces Stephen and smiles awkwardly.

 

“Hey, babe. I’m guessing I was late to breakfast?”

 

“Yeah, by almost three hours. What the hell happened here?” He asks, holding back a laugh as he helps Tony stand up. Tony wraps the blanket around himself, shivering. “Why are you only wearing a tank top and purple heart boxers?” Tony looks down at himself, looking up and shrugging.

 

“Well, Peter came home and told us about his presentation and how he got an A, though none of us were shocked, so when I congratulated him with a hug and a pat on the back and he didn’t look extremely happy, I decided we should have a movie night. Which turned into this,” Tony motions towards the two other people on the floor in front of the TV that Stephen could see was playing ‘A League Of Their Own,’ and Stephen raises an eyebrow at Tony, shaking his head. “That’s May, I’m pretty sure. Bruce and Clint are here somewhere, Steve, Bucky, and Rhodey left hours ago, and I think Peter is in the room. Wait, where’s Peter? Why does it smell like smoke?” 

 

Tony shuffles quickly towards the kitchen with Stephen right on his heels, and they stop in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Peter obliviously dances in front of the stove. The smoke alarm lay on the table, the smell of smoke stronger here than anywhere.  Peter was singing to himself, occasionally using the spatula, which he was using to flip large and burnt pancakes, as a microphone. As he tries to hit the high note of the song, he does a spin and stops as he comes face to face with Tony and Stephen, both with very large smiles on their faces. Stephen had his arms wrapped around Tony’s waist, his chin resting on top of his head. 

 

"Uhm, hi Mr. Man, Mr. Strange. How long have you been up and when did you get here?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back awkwardly. 

 

“I’ve been up for 0.2 seconds and you’re already ruining my kitchen. He’s been here for about 2 seconds. Were you making everyone breakfast?” Tony asks, smiling even bigger as Peters' face grows red. He looks around the kitchen as if it was his first time doing so, and he lets out a deep sigh before facing the two again.

 

“I’ll clean this up, I swear!” May walks in then, her blanket wrapped around herself, and Natasha walks in a few moments later, her hair a tangled mess. They sit next to each other on the island, not saying a word as they reach for the pancakes Peter had already set out on the table for everyone. “They had a little too much to drink,” Peter mutters towards Stephen, motioning someone taking a swig of a drink before giggling. The two ladies send him a death glare and while Tony stifles a laugh, Stephen gets them both a glass of water and some pain medicine. 

 

“Let’s eat, shall we?” Tony asks, sitting down next to Natasha, patting the seat next to him for Stephen, who takes it before grabbing a hold of Tony’s hand. “And thank you for this, Peter. I really appreciate it,” Tony takes a mouthful of pancakes before shrugging. “You are cleaning it all up though.


	2. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tony arrives back at his apartment four months after the events of Infinity War and has to cope with the fact Stephen and Peter are no longer there. (angst warning ahead)

 

Tony walks into the tower alone, silent. The lights were off and he was not greeted by the familiar voice of Jarvis. He wasn’t greeted by anything. He puts his jacket down slowly, swallowing hard. Coming back here every now and again was the hardest thing he had to do. He could distract himself everywhere else; his lab, the park, the shops. There, he could focus on a single thing, get it done, and not have to remember the worst day of his life. The day he lost the people closest to him. 

 

But at home, when he arrived at the silent apartment where the only thing that remained was the ghost of his memories, he couldn’t ignore the thoughts. And it’s not like he could drown his sorrows in a drink; he had promised both Peter and Stephen that he would never touch a bottle again, and he hasn’t. No matter how much he wanted too. He can’t bring himself to make himself something to eat, so he walks slowly through his apartment, trying to breathe away his panic attack. He stops in front of the bedroom door where Peter used to stay. 

 

The door was decorated with signs Peter had made, report cards, notes from his friends, drawings, and in the middle, a whiteboard with ‘Peter’s room, stay out unless you’re cool’ sprawled in his messy writing. Underneath, in his small and calculated handwriting, Stephen had written ‘Tony is banned.’ Tony smiles despite himself, but it quickly is pushed down as a wave of grief hits him. Peter should be there, laying on his bed doing homework while talking with Ned and MJ. He should be trying to sneak food into his room instead of eating in the living room watching another rerun of an old sitcom with his two dads. Tony swallows hard, blinking back the hot tears as he opens the door.

 

The room was in perfect condition. The bed was made messily and Peter’s backpack lay on his desktop, half zipped up. There was a pile of dirty laundry shoved in the corner and a pile of polaroid photos on his bedside table. Tony walks through, one hand to his mouth while the other trails lightly across Peter’s things. The thing’s he would have yelled at Tony for touching, or things he had made for his friends. He could yell at Tony, call him a terrible father for all he cared; he just wanted Peter back here with him. Tony sits on the bed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He stays on the bed for a few moments more before standing up abruptly. He can’t stay in here. 

 

Before walking out, he stops and brushes the wrinkles his body had made on the blanket out. He wanted it to be perfect for when Peter came back. If he came back. Tony closes the door silently, stifling a yawn. He doesn’t really remember walking down the hall to his room but he does remember just how much his heart hurt when he walks into his room and not seeing Stephen on his side of the bed reading a new book. He turns the light on and stands in front of the empty space in his bed and he can’t force himself to take another step inside. 

 

He hasn’t been inside his own bedroom in almost four months. Since the day Stephen and Peter disappeared. He would pass by the door when he would drop by the apartment to grab something and every time he would stop in front of it and lay his hand on the doorknob…. but he wouldn't open it. Entering the room and seeing the empty and clean room where Stephen used to spread out hundreds of books and papers to look at, where he would sprawl out until Tony forcefully shoved him to his side even though he would immediately cuddle into Tony when he got comfortable, where the two of them had some of the most serious and some of the stupidest talks. Knowing Stephen wouldn’t be laying with him to run his fingers through his hair and plant a kiss on his forehead, telling him that it would all be okay, was almost too much to bear. Add on the fact the him and the two most important people in his life wouldn’t eat breakfast and dinner together every day, talking about their day, or the fact that the three of them would never have another family game night where Stephen would flip the board and send money and tokens everywhere, giving each of them $100 for it, or the fact that Stephen and Tony wouldn't be able to talk to Peter about school and his crushes and be able to guide him through life; without those things, Tony’s life was practically hell. 

 

All he did was work. Day in, day out, Tony would be working on new suits, though he had dropped the mantle of Iron Man because he felt as if he had nothing left to protect anymore anyways, or writing papers to his charities on what he could do personally to help. He seldom had a moment to himself because when he did, everything would come crashing down around him. Tony’s phone buzzes and he shakes his head, picking it up and answering. 

 

“Tony Stark speaking.”

 

“Tony? Are you okay?” It was Steve. The two had put aside their differences and had been a slight comfort after losing their entire world. Tony had been dodging Steve’s calls for the past few days, just because he didn’t feel like talking about how he was feeling because he didn’t even know how he felt. Angry. Sad. Lost. Too many words, none of them right.

 

“Yeah, I am Steve. I’m just at home,” He takes a final look in his bedroom and sighs heavily, turning the light off and closing the door behind him. He begins to head back to the living room. “I’m just going to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He hangs up and sits down on the sunken couch where he has been sleeping for the past four nights because he can't bear to sleep in his own bed. He leans back, not bothering to turn the light off because he knows he’ll be awake in less than four hours from the nightmares, which have only gotten worse. 

 

“Goodnight Peter. Goodnight Stephen. I love the two of you more than words can describe. I miss you.” 


End file.
